I Hereby Resolve to.....

Image Courtesy exurbmagazine.com

My first reaction to a suggestion for a list of resolutions was- But I never make them! If I want to work towards a new, improved me, why wait an entire year, why not start now. But it’s the first week of January; the whole world is wracking their brains hard towards their a little more of this and a little less of that list. So why should I be left behind? And I thought hard, really hard and came up with this.



I will act less violently the next time I see a pic of Kareena Kapoor pouting at the camera. Of course the ‘come hither, I’m too hot for my own good’ look is not directed at me, but for her million panting male fans. In reality though, I’ve yet to come across a living being who’s as much in love with Ms Kapoor as the lady herself. This year, the new, patient me will pout back in all my lip glossed glory.

I will finish what I started – City of Djinns that I have been reading for the past two months, Atlas Shrugged- that I should have finished ten years back, In an Antique Land- collecting dust for the last three years. The batch of muffins that I was supposed to bake five years back. I bought the moulds and then conveniently stored them in the darkest corner of my loft. Note to self – find those damn things.

I will stop criticizing our hard working netas and send a personal thank you note to all of them. Thank you for working so sincerely for the benefit of your bank balance and contributing to the growing GDP. May the zeros in your scams rise significantly.

No more forwarding stale Rajnikanth jokes to my friends. Enough of Rajni Saar knows Victoria’s Secret....Can make onions cry....Killed the Dead Sea......Can play the violin with the Piano... Has threatened to delete the Internet if we don’t stop circulating jokes about him. I actually took his threat seriously. Please Saar, anything but the Internet, my life depends on it.

I promise to age backwards. In Woody Allen’s words.... “In my next life, I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people’s home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension and then when you start work, you get a gold watch and a party on your first day. You work for 40 years until you are young enough to enjoy your retirement and are generally promiscuous. Then you are ready for high school, you become a kid, play. You have no responsibilities; you become a baby until you are born. And then spend 9 months floating in a luxurious spa, with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila! You finish off as an orgasm!” Why next life, I want to start right now!

2011 here I come, in all my pouting, earnestly thankful and somewhere near the finish line, avatar. And by the time you finish reading this, I will be in school sporting spiky hair with purple nails, furiously chewing gum and fantasizing about my imaginary vampire boyfriend. Mum, do I really need to take my bath!

Gosh! Time Passes So Quickly!

Every New Year there are some typical things we do. We party, get sloshed and dance to anything that remotely sounds like music. We go charging to the dance floor, move our limbs around energetically, we thump, we bump and manage to collide into nearly everybody (hundred people on a 20x20 dance floor, of course it’s possible). But we are Delhites, we never say sorry! The moment the clock strikes 12, the music reaches a crescendo, we are delirious with joy and end up hugging even that shady looking guy in his cowboy hat. Phew we managed to survive another year!

Have you come up with your set of resolutions yet? Your guilt overload that’s a precursor to the list – you promise to do a little less of this and a lot more of that. At the end of the week, you realize you have bitten off more than you can chew and by the end of the month, you’ve been afflicted by a curious case of short term amnesia.

Let’s do a rewind. Let’s all look back and take stock of what just become past, scrounge for precious nuggets as keepsakes and store them away in our chest of memories. Who knows when you might need them to cheer you up! Of course, not all recollections are agreeable – a few might singe you, make your eyes well up in tears and a precious few that will put the smile back on your face on a dark, dank day.

If I were to think of just one word that defines 2010 for me, it will be re-discovery. This year I stretched myself physically and mentally and discovered a new me. The year gave birth to A-musing, my blog. So many subjects I thought I could never write on, yet I willed myself to. I learnt a new phrase “impossible is just an excuse”. Not that I’ve stopped making excuses, I have an entire collection for my long standing addiction to my blog. I am battling it constantly but I guess a part of me is not trying hard enough. My family and friends came to know me through my write-ups and I had so many of them ringing me up to say Hey! I didn’t know this about you! I earned my little laurels and my year ended with the best New Year’s gift I could ask for - my “Fall of the Feminine” was selected as one of the top 25 Tangy Tuesday posts of 2010 by Blogadda. I connected with the most wonderful, gifted people through my writing and through theirs. Thank you, everyone, for suffering me week after week – and I am glad I got to read your perspectives on life, love and passion.

I got back in touch with many of my school friends – links I had lost in the course of my job. For once I had time for me and made the most of it – I celebrated life the way it should be. I started taking dancing classes, Jazz and Contemporary. I pranced around in the hall with the instructor hollering step-ball-change in the background, doing pirouettes while trying hard not to fall. I got scolded, which had me looking sheepishly for cover. But the icing on the cake was me trying to pout. No, I wasn’t trying a Kareena Kapoor, it was part of a routine and I ended up looking hilarious. Now I have settled peacefully into Yoga, where we thankfully don’t have to pout but simply laugh maniacally at the end of the class.

I am looking at 2011 with a little trepidation. What if I don’t have anything more to say, what if my ideas dry up, will I let all of you down, will I just fade away? And, will I finally be able to stand on my head in yoga class?




Now that I have jabbered endlessly about me, I want you to tell me that one word that comes to your mind when you think of 2010. It would be lovely if you share with me that one memory that carries the essence of the year gone by. Let’s all weave a tapestry of memories, shall we? Here’s to a New Year and new beginnings.

My New Year’s Eve ended perfectly…I notice that the guy carving the Turkey for our table has forgotten to pour the Cranberry sauce on my portion. So I ask for another slice, this time with the sauce. He gives me a knowing smile and in a slow measured tone he says…The sauce…meaningful pause…has ALCOHOL. This after he has poured dollops of it on my daughter’s portion. Huhh!! Do I look the leading lady of a Satsang Gang!!!

Bloggers from Delhi meet-the unofficial version

I almost didn’t make it for the bloggers meet. Not that I wasn’t keen. Having read so many accounts of Indiblogger-meets, I had been waiting for the Delhi version for months. And every time I read an announcement about a new meet (even Dubai got one), I would sulk and wonder, why not Delhi?

Well it did happen, out of the blue, at such a short notice that I was far from amused. In winters we Delhites come out of our self-imposed hibernation and make the most of the weather. People eligible, ineligible get married, the city comes to life with its many exhibitions and concerts and we party like apocalypse is just round the corner. And moi goes on an overdrive inviting her long ignored friends. And it was on Saturday 18th Dec, the same day as the Indi-meet I had chosen to throw a dessert party for my close friends (yes, such a thing exists especially for people who think cooking is a mind numbing chore). I was supposed to make paatishaptas (a sweet crepe with a coconut-kheer filling). Of course the drama queen I am, I had been stressing about it for days. But my fears were not entirely unfounded, I have made this Bengali dessert precisely twice in my entire lifetime and ended up bragging about it on FB and that’s what got me in trouble. And now this meet, I so wanted to go to but couldn’t. How can I? I will be spending the entire day bumbling, fumbling in the kitchen, completely engrossed in my culinary misadventures.

I spent the entire week apologizing profusely….to my few blogger friends from Delhi for my inability to make it (two to be precise) …. I even sent a preemptive text to my friend apologizing for my imagined culinary disaster.

It was the last minute mail from Vineet Rajan from Indiblogger that changed my mind…. Hope to see you at the Delhi blogger meet! Mom will also be there. And his Mom is none other than “Zephyr”, one of my favourite bloggers. That was it, I took back my apology notes and there I was on my way to Religare Art Gallery, the venue for the meet.

On my way, I nearly perished of the mad-bad Delhi traffic. What are a zillion people doing on the road and that too on a Saturday!! I was afraid that I would end up ranting about the traffic mess during my formal intro at the gathering. It took me nearly two hours of what should have normally taken 40 minutes to reach Connaught Place. But when you are in Delhi, you forget what normal is.

I was late but so were many others and I entered the hall all smiley faced, my hair flying in all directions. At the entrance I was greeted warmly by Vineet but the ill mannered lout I am, all I could manage was “where’s Mom” (his not mine). She had yet to turn up.

It was at the meet I came face to face with the truth….we bloggers are a bunch of boring nerds. I almost fell asleep during the introductions (a notable few did sparkle though). And some of us are endearingly shy. Anoop Johnson, our MC for the day did try to liven up the proceedings with his crackling humour.

The Delhi meet also had a very important social cause associated with it - The blanket of relief “an initiative to distribute blankets to help Delhi’s homeless fight the biting cold”. We had a fun quiz too, conducted by mydala (Indibloggers’s social partner) where we were asked soul searching questions as – what does Cinnabon taste like(sweet, sour ,salty) what did the guy say when he threw his wristwatch out of the window …..And we went mad screaming out the answers, why! because the giveaways were free Cinnabon hampers.





Zephyr, Tikulli and moi-Pic courtesy Tikulli Dogra

And to make us feel 16 again, we were given chart papers to hang from our backs and asked to get as many comments from fellow bloggers. After the meet I have come up with a new wisecrack….I thought I was almost famous till I went to an Indiblogger-meet. No one, absolutely no-one, barring ten people (or was it nine) reads my blog. But the brave soul I am, I don’t let such trivialities deter me….. Hi I am Purba…Purba Ray….My blog is A-musing, yes with a hyphen in between…. I did have a few coming up to me saying… You are Purba aren’t you…Loved your article on…and I silently let out a whoop of delight. But I did get to meet Zephyr the author of CyberNag, her L&M and her very cute granddaughter. I was dying to give my favourite blogger a tight hug but showed remarkable restraint. It was a pleasure connecting with Tikulli, IHM, Abha, Richa, Pankaj Batra, Sangeeta, Ankita, Arushi, Prerna and reconnecting with old friends Prateek Varma, Himanshu Shekhar and Desh.

Unfortunately I had to leave mid-way, my patishaptaas were beckoning to me. But I left with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I did let out an anguished cry though, at the sight of Janpath and all that tantalizing rastaa shopping and sadly no time on hand.


But my story does have a sweet ending. I had a rocking mid night adda session with my friends – the patishaptaas to my utter horror turned out remarkably well and the husband chipped in with a big batch of the yummiest malpuas. And now the statutory warning…..Dear readers, to avoid incurring my wrath, steer clear of asking where’s my share of patishaptaas? I will not be making them again, at least not in this lifetime. But I am looking forward to another Indiblogger-meet, preferably on a Sunday (when the traffic is almost sane) and at a non centrally located place (to avoid the rush). Is anyone listening????